Page 166 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
I’m sorry, Grey. But we couldn’t predict this.
The fire has changed everything.
This time, it isn’t the club or the mafia who gets the last laugh: mother nature has made us all her bitch.
Cat makes an executive decision to load up the bikes with precision rifles—just in case. It’s an extra ten minutes that makes Crown antsy as hell, but at least it gives Sin time to check road conditions and make sure it’s still safe to take the backroads.
It is, but only for now.
We’re in the middle of what’s called a ‘high-wind’ event and the fire is moving fast. Not only that, but with the entire state of Oregon as well as California, Washington, and Idaho also in the middle of their own wildfire season, resources are spread thin.
I don’t think anybody on that compound wants to find themselves surrounded by the hungry red, orange, and yellow fingers of the devil. They might be monsters, but even monsters can burn.
I stand aside while the bikes are loaded up since I don’t know shit about weight distribution. That, and I don’t know where any of the stuff is that needs loading. I’d just get in the way. I stay close to Sin as he works on his iPad, confirming our route and then tucking it under his arm with a grim expression on that sharp mouth of his.
“I don’t like this,” he tells me, glancing my way. “There are too many variables.”
“The fire really has thrown a wrench in all our plans, huh?” I ask, trying not to feel frustrated by the sudden turn of events. I killed Giulia. The mafia wants blood. If they’d come for it under normal circumstances, thrown their soldiers at the compound walls, we’d have a distinct advantage. Their only other choice would be to cede this territory—and the casino—to Death by Daybreak. Because if they waited too long, the other chapters would’ve arrived, and we’d have an even greater advantage.
Of course, all of that might’ve led to the same damn conclusion: more years of this drawn-out war. This is what happened last time; the two groups came to a stalemate, backed off each other, and then restarted this shit all over again.
Grey and I, we just want to see it all come to an end before anyone else that we love has to die. That’s the goal. We both want our power, but we also want our peace.
I pull my shirt up over my nose to help filter some of the smoke. It’s making my eyes water and when I turn my attention toward the south, I can see the sky lit up like it, too, is on fire.
“We’re ready,” Crown says, reporting directly to Sin. The VP glances over at me, reaching out to cup my face in a warm hand. He doesn’t say anything else which is okay. There’s nothing more that needs to be said.
I love him. I love all of them. Words have been said. Declarations made. They’ve voiced their displeasure at having me involved in this; I’ve laid down the law of what I want for my life.
So here we are.
“I hate that you’re riding up front,” I tell Sin, but he just flashes me a half-smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, leaning in to give me a kiss that’s far too ashy to be pleasant but somehow is anyway.
“I’ll be okay,” he assures me, looking me over and then shaking his head. “It’s you that I’m worried about.” He points to the row of bikes, lined up and ready to head out the gate. “Crown and Grainger will be right behind me. You’ll be in the center beside Cat. If anything happens, stay with Beast.”
“I will,” I promise him, and he takes off, grabbing his helmet and turning to survey the row of motorcycles.
I head for Beast’s bike but not before pausing to give Grainger a quick kiss on the cheek. Luckily, his helmet is still in his hands so I’m able to brush my lips over his dark stubble.
“Don’t die on me. I’m not giving birth by myself. I hear it’s brutal.”
He slaps me on the ass as I pass by and scoffs.
“Watch you squat and drop a baby while wearing a leather miniskirt and wielding an Uzi. Don’t act like you won’t conquer childbirth the way you do everything else.”
Grainger’s words make me chuckle, but not for long. Beast looks so damn serious, and so does Cat. This is war. Literal fucking war.
I grab my helmet, slip it on, and take a seat behind my husband. I can see Cat watching me for a moment but eventually, he too puts his helmet on, and the entire column of bikes roars to life. It’s absolutely magical, this resounding scream of engines that tears up the early morning sky. If you squint, it seems ethereal, like the world is shrouded in sweet fog.
